Read Online Darkest Before Dawn (KGI series) by Maya Banks - Free Book Online
Authors: Maya Banks
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center. She’d been operating on raw instinct. Survival instinct. And she’d gathered every bit of her extensive knowledge of the languages and customs of the regions she worked in to help her not only escape her immediate prison but stay hidden in plain sight and pray that she was able to make it to a place beyond the seemingly all-encompassing reach of the militant group that terrorized such a widespread area.
After carefully replacing all items into her sack and ensuring that there would be no sign of her left behind, she once more leaned against the rough support the rock offered and closed her eyes, trying to push back the paralyzing fear of having to go into the village and show herself, even though only her eyes would be visible.
But eyes were the window to the soul, or so the saying went. Would her terror be there for the world to see? Would the villagers know of her pain, sorrow and abject fear just by looking into her eyes? Would she have the look of someone who was being hunted, who’d been handed a death sentence? For a second time? She’d been condemned to die in the attack, but somehow she survived. Could she survive being sentenced to death again?
It’s a game, Honor. One you’re winning. You can’t let yourself think anything else.
Honor swallowed and slipped further toward the veil of sleep. She could pretend all she wanted. She could wear the armor of denial forever. But neither changed the fact that this was no game. This was a fight and nothing less. The most important fight of her life. For her life.
There was no room for second place. Second place got her unimaginable pain and degradation and eventually death. Her only choice was to fight as she’d never fought before.
And win.
CHAPTER 5
HONOR awoke with the first rays of sun that crept over the horizon, bathing the area in its pale light. She emitted a mental groan because all she wanted to do was sleep. For days. Even as uncomfortable as she was among the rock formations and the sand biting into her skin.
The wind had kicked up, showing promise of being as forceful as the night before when she’d fought to control the swirling hem of her robe.
She could have sneaked into the village in the dark of night and gone to the small river that was the life’s blood of this village. It was where the people bathed, did their washing, got their drinking water and did any number of other daily chores. She could have washed her wounds and replenished her water supply, but she needed a small clay or metal pot—even a tin cup—to boil the water in now that she had run through the untainted water she’d gotten from the clinic.
But she wasn’t fool enough to think she wouldn’t have been discovered. Though the village was quiet and peaceful, not one that had yet been overtaken by outsiders, and they hadn’t had to defend themselves from an outside attack, she knew they would have been trained, their men, young and old; even the boys and some of the women as well would have prepared themselves for the eventuality of occupation.And they no doubt had nightly watch patrols, just to ensure that they weren’t victim to a surprise attack in the dead of night.
There wasn’t a village that took for granted that they were impervious to the plights of so many others. And as more refugees from other decimated villages fled to villages just like this, the danger to communities rose. Terrorist cells and fanatics saw them as easy targets and as nothing more than the expansion of their empire. They didn’t see humans, good and decent people who hurt no one, who went about their daily life only wanting to be left in peace. People like those who’d struck at the relief center with such savagery had no humanity whatsoever. They saw themselves as superior to these simpletons, useless as anything but farmers and traders. Their women created beautiful accessories, clothing, decorative beading and fancier headdresses and long flowing gowns. People traveled far
After carefully replacing all items into her sack and ensuring that there would be no sign of her left behind, she once more leaned against the rough support the rock offered and closed her eyes, trying to push back the paralyzing fear of having to go into the village and show herself, even though only her eyes would be visible.
But eyes were the window to the soul, or so the saying went. Would her terror be there for the world to see? Would the villagers know of her pain, sorrow and abject fear just by looking into her eyes? Would she have the look of someone who was being hunted, who’d been handed a death sentence? For a second time? She’d been condemned to die in the attack, but somehow she survived. Could she survive being sentenced to death again?
It’s a game, Honor. One you’re winning. You can’t let yourself think anything else.
Honor swallowed and slipped further toward the veil of sleep. She could pretend all she wanted. She could wear the armor of denial forever. But neither changed the fact that this was no game. This was a fight and nothing less. The most important fight of her life. For her life.
There was no room for second place. Second place got her unimaginable pain and degradation and eventually death. Her only choice was to fight as she’d never fought before.
And win.
CHAPTER 5
HONOR awoke with the first rays of sun that crept over the horizon, bathing the area in its pale light. She emitted a mental groan because all she wanted to do was sleep. For days. Even as uncomfortable as she was among the rock formations and the sand biting into her skin.
The wind had kicked up, showing promise of being as forceful as the night before when she’d fought to control the swirling hem of her robe.
She could have sneaked into the village in the dark of night and gone to the small river that was the life’s blood of this village. It was where the people bathed, did their washing, got their drinking water and did any number of other daily chores. She could have washed her wounds and replenished her water supply, but she needed a small clay or metal pot—even a tin cup—to boil the water in now that she had run through the untainted water she’d gotten from the clinic.
But she wasn’t fool enough to think she wouldn’t have been discovered. Though the village was quiet and peaceful, not one that had yet been overtaken by outsiders, and they hadn’t had to defend themselves from an outside attack, she knew they would have been trained, their men, young and old; even the boys and some of the women as well would have prepared themselves for the eventuality of occupation.And they no doubt had nightly watch patrols, just to ensure that they weren’t victim to a surprise attack in the dead of night.
There wasn’t a village that took for granted that they were impervious to the plights of so many others. And as more refugees from other decimated villages fled to villages just like this, the danger to communities rose. Terrorist cells and fanatics saw them as easy targets and as nothing more than the expansion of their empire. They didn’t see humans, good and decent people who hurt no one, who went about their daily life only wanting to be left in peace. People like those who’d struck at the relief center with such savagery had no humanity whatsoever. They saw themselves as superior to these simpletons, useless as anything but farmers and traders. Their women created beautiful accessories, clothing, decorative beading and fancier headdresses and long flowing gowns. People traveled far
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